


You're up, I'm up.

by effster



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-16
Updated: 2013-11-16
Packaged: 2018-01-01 19:04:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1047495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/effster/pseuds/effster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So, it's incredibly short but it rattled around in my mind for ages, so here it is.</p></blockquote>





	You're up, I'm up.

Her contemplation is broken by the tired sigh and the movement of an arm from under the duvet as it reaches for the bedside lamp.  
“Don’t.”  
“What? It’s gone 4 and you’re still tossing and turning; if you’re up, I’m up. What’s up?”  
She can’t help but chuckle, even two years on it still surprises her sometimes, it’s not the life she’s been used to; someone giving a damn. “You are. It’s nothing”  
“Hmm, it’s something.”  
She snorts in the partial darkness, realising that the pale light of dawn is making an appearance, as her bedfellow rolls over and drapes an arm over her stomach. Her response, to lace their fingers together, is subconscious and practically instant, it’s how they belong now.  
Her mind tumbles and she sighs herself, safe in the knowledge her response is being waited for.  
“I never thought this…” She whispers, as the palm of her hand is stroked by a calming thumb “expected it would work out, I thought I’d be out on my ass in the first week.”  
She feels the mattress move and lips graze her shoulders.  
“I knew you would get there, you just had to believe yourself rather than just say it” is the quiet reply, almost mumbled into her shoulder, where lips still linger, “but, if neither of us get any sleep, we’ll both look like shit in the pictures.”  
Franky can’t help but snort again.  
“I fucking love your potty mouth, you know”  
Less mumbled this time, with her skin missing contact already; “and I fucking love you”  
The movement is slow, but not subtle as Franky draws Erica’s face to her own, in a kiss that speaks volumes; and as they draw away from each other, Franky can see so much in her eyes, it almost scares her.  
But true to form, as Erica snuggles into Franky’s side and tells her to try and sleep, Franky has to have the last word. “Yes, Governor.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, it's incredibly short but it rattled around in my mind for ages, so here it is.


End file.
